


Between One Place and Another

by nephiliminality



Series: Angst Bingo 2020 [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: (Basically what you'd expect from Noah's Ark), Ace-friendly, Angst, Animal Death, Canon-typical Alcohol Consumption, Crowley is Angry at God (Good Omens), Crowley's Name is Crawly | Crawley (Good Omens), Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Grief/Mourning, Light Angst, Lonely Aziraphale (Good Omens), Lonely Crowley (Good Omens), Lonely Unicorn, M/M, Mild Swearing, Noah's Ark, Seasickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26485426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nephiliminality/pseuds/nephiliminality
Summary: The only demon on Earth has a chat with the only unicorn left on Earth. The only angel on Earth has a chat with the only demon on Earth. Divine policies are criticised. The competence of Noah & Co is questioned. Boats are tolerated. Mistakes are made. Everyone needs company sometimes.For the Angst Bingo 2020 prompt: "How does it feel? To know you're the only one left, I mean."
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Angst Bingo 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926217
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35
Collections: GO Angst Bingo 2020





	Between One Place and Another

Crawly sat in the tiny stall, watching his stallmate pick apathetically at some hay.

"Not keen on boats?" he said. "Me neither. Never been on one before. Once is enough, I think."

He brushed some stray seeds off his robes. They were damp, like everything else on this contraption. Damp and salty and reeking of scared animals. There was no point miracling them dry, they would only get wet again. The floor heaved and the walls creaked and there was barely space to stand let alone sit. Crawly had been on board for a week so far, sneaking about below decks doing his best not to be seen. It was boring and stifling, and there was very little to distract him from the devastation he knew was outside.

It was still better than going back to Hell to sit it out, though. Crawly spent as little time Below as he could get away with, and he already had a reputation for it. The other demons he didn't actively steer well clear of had been avoiding him for a while now, presumably in the belief that his fascination with Earth and its inhabitants was contagious. No matter. They were never much fun to talk to anyway. Not like the humans had been, before this.

"Missing your friend?" he said, to his latest acquaintance. The unicorn harrumphed. "Sorry. Partner. Rude of me to assume."

The unicorn stopped chewing his hay and gave Crawly a look that was dejected even by equine standards. Crawly looked back sympathetically.

"It's no fun, is it? Being somewhere so crowded and still being on your own."

The unicorn's horn scraped the wood above the hay rack as he turned back for another half-hearted mouthful. Crawly winced. Noah and his sons hadn't paid as much attention as they should have to the needs of each animal they brought on board, and even at half occupancy the stall was barely adequate. It could have been worse, though, he thought to himself. They could have decided not to bring a sole specimen along at all, or redesignated him as food for the others. People willing to watch their neighbours drown probably weren't prone to random acts of kindness.

"Why'd he run away without you anyway? If you don't mind me asking?"

Crawly watched the unicorn's restless shuffles.

"He just needed to run sometimes? Huh. Me too. Last chance for a while, I guess. Can't do much running on a boat." He eyed the far wall, a scant few feet away. "Yeah, I miss it too."

He looked down at his robes again. "It's like that sometimes, I suppose. You run off looking at things, following things, asking things. Then the next thing you know the storm's coming in and you've gone too far to get back. Missed your boat. If you were ever meant to be on the boat. If there wasn't a list somewhere that you weren't on."

He looked the unicorn in the eye. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I don't think he's coming back this time."

The unicorn nodded his head and whinnied softly. Crawly racked his brains for some words of comfort.

"Maybe he made it to high ground somewhere, I mean, it's possible right? You're all so fast, and so clever." He corrected himself under his breath, sadly. "Were."

They both fell silent for a bit. Crawly felt a sudden need to offer something, anything, to this fellow lonely creature.

"I tell you what, when the water's gone and we can get off this thing, I'll help you look for him. If he's still out there, we'll find him."

He thought the unicorn looked a little happier at that. It was hard to tell.

* * *

"Crawly?"

Crawly turned from the boxes of cargo he'd been exploring, and saw the angel - the only one he could possibly see that wouldn't mean immediate discorporation. He was trying to wear a stern expression, but his eyes were refusing to cooperate.

"Hello." Crawly said, stepping out from behind the boxes.

"So Japheth was right about there being a demon aboard."

Crawly shrugged. "He always was a grass."

Aziraphale tried not to smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying not to get wet. You're here on business, I assume? Assisting the floating zookeeper?"

Aziraphale gave up the stern expression as an obviously doomed endeavour, and sighed. "Someone has to, if anything's going to make it off this thing alive."

"Mm, Noah and sons don't strike me as natural conservationists. That unicorn's carving holes in the ceiling."

Aziraphale winced. "The poor thing. I don't know why they still brought it."

Crawly folded his arms and glared. "Well I'm glad they did."

"So am I." Aziraphale said defensively.

The glare softened. They stood awkwardly, unsure of what to say or do. They were in uncharted territory, after all: a demon and an angel, talking rather than fighting. And they could hardly talk about the weather.

"How are you finding the boat?" Crawly said, at last.

"I'm... managing." Aziraphale said. "Never been on one before. Once is enough, I think."

"Yeah. Same."

The boat lurched under them with an alarming creak, and then something worryingly large slammed against the hull. The air filled with the noises (and smells) of terrified livestock. Aziraphale stumbled and grabbed the nearest post, looking slightly green, as filthy water began to trickle between the planks along one wall. Crawly looked at it in alarm; Aziraphale snapped his fingers shakily and it stopped.

"How much more of this is there?" Crawly said, clinging to one of the heavier crates and feeling rather green himself.

"A lot more, I'm afraid. Forty days and nights in total."

"Just to be really, absolutely sure that nothing else survives it?"

Aziraphale looked at the floor for reasons which had nothing to do with its movement.

"I can tell you're not okay with this, you know."

"It's the will of the Almighty, Crawly. My opinion is irrelevant."

"It was relevant before."

"And I got off very lightly, all things considered." he said, as if reciting a mantra. "Mustn't push my luck."

The boat must have reached calmer waters, because the lurching subsided. Crawly let go of the crate again and spread his hands.

"So what now, O loyal servant of the Lord? I'm sure you're obliged to throw me over the side or something. Or at least tell me to piss off."

Aziraphale sighed again, and made a decision. Loneliness had competed with duty for a moment, but duty hadn't put up much of a fight. "You really shouldn't be here. But, seeing as you are..." he retrieved a wineskin from his robes and waved it in Crawly's general direction. "It would be rather ungracious of me to deny you hospitality, wouldn't it?"

They both leaned against the crate, and Crawly took the vessel with a mumbled thanks. He sniffed it curiously. "Smells good."

"It is." Aziraphale said, eyes lighting up. "From that town in the next valley, you know the one. Theirs always turns out well."

"Shame they won't be making any more of it, really."

Aziraphale's smile melted into regret. "We can't judge Her, Crawly." he said softly.

Crawly scoffed. "I can, and I am."

"You can't. You'll-"

"Are you going to tell me I'll get in trouble?" the demon asked, mildly.

Aziraphale shut up. Crawly passed back the wineskin and they sat in sombre silence for a bit.

"I just don't get it." Crawly finally said. "They were doing so well. Now they've lost everything."

Aziraphale nodded, an agreement he wasn't willing to put into words.

"And what did the animals ever do?" Crawly continued, accepting the wineskin again. "Why do the unicorns have to drown because God's angry with the humans?"

Aziraphale let the question sit unanswered - he had no answer for it, after all. "At least there will still _be_ humans after." he mumbled. "There won't be unicorns. Shem had to be so careless with the loading."

Crawly thought for a moment, and frowned. "I think he was careless earlier than that. They were both boys. From what you were saying about the pairs, that wasn't going to work anyway, was it? For making more unicorns, I mean, it was working fine otherwise. Until your lot ruined it."

Aziraphale started to respond, then a look of horror crossed his face like a sunset. " _Breeding_ pairs, it said! One of each, male and female, both fertile! The message was very clear!"

"Well, if you will come up with ridiculous plans. I mean, just two? Of every animal? There are so many ways that could go wrong. And what about the plants, anyway? They don't like being drowned either..."

"How many others have they mistaken like this?" Aziraphale continued, no longer listening. "Must dash, sorry, oh there's going to be such a carry-on..."

Aziraphale scurried off, hands wringing, presumably to assess how many other species were going to go extinct courtesy of the humans' inability to follow simple instructions. Crawly watched him leave with mild disappointment, then quietly took the wineskin and curled up in a warmer spot amongst the provisions. He shouldn't mind too much. They weren't friends after all, just familiar opponents. And there would be other opportunities to talk.

"I'm sorry about the unicorns." he said to himself. "It would have been nice to have unicorns."

**Author's Note:**

> The title and last line (paraphrased) are from the incomparable Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead by Tom Stoppard.
> 
> Comments welcome and appreciated, either here or on [Tumblr](https://nephiliminality.tumblr.com/) :)


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